


Oh, Baby, Meet Me In The New Year

by destimushi



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fireworks, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Years, baby girl - Freeform, buck is an adorkable idiot, buck loves babies, eddie loves buck loving babies, emergency calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi
Summary: Just because Eddie and Buck's New Year's Eve plans are ruined, doesn't mean it can't still be a magical night.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 30
Kudos: 322





	Oh, Baby, Meet Me In The New Year

To say that New Year’s Eve is a shit show is the biggest understatement of the year, and yes, that includes the whole tsunami thing. 

Buck rips his helmet off as he stumbles into the firehouse, his legs heavy like lead pillars as he trudges into the locker room. Beside him, Eddie drops onto the bench, his head hung low as he checks his phone. Christopher’s bright smile flashes across the screen as Eddie scrolls through the photos Carla must have sent him, and Buck sighs. 

He loves being a firefighter. Loves helping people and saving lives. It gives him a purpose bigger than just him, and on any other day, he’d work tirelessly without complaint. But tonight is New Years Eve, and he and Eddie had plans to spend it bringing in 2020 with Chris. 

Alas, party animals and house fires from errant fireworks have no regard for Buck and Eddie and Christopher’s NYE plans. When both their phones chirped with Cap’s emergency texts, all three of them groaned. 

Hen hangs up her jacket before bending over to tie her shoes, her movements sluggish. What’s the point of even getting out of their gear? If the rest of the night continues like it has been, they’ll be getting another call really soon.

The alarm blares, and Hen groans loudly before reaching for her jacket again. Maybe he jinxed it, or maybe he’s actually clairvoyant. Shit. Buck pats her shoulder, then takes Eddie by the elbow and helps him to his feet before the three of them file out toward the fire engine. 

“All right, everyone, look sharp,” Cap shouts over the blaring alarm, and Buck wonders if the man’s really half machine. How’s he so chirpy when he’s half way through a double shift? Is there some super sonic ultra coffee he’s sipping in his office that he’s not sharing with the rest of the team? “We got a PNB at a party downtown.” 

“Pulseless non-breather. My favourite,” Chim says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, which is to say, not a whole lot, and Buck doesn’t even have the energy to mutter “mood.” 

They pile into the truck, and Cap takes the wheel. With the sirens blaring and lights flashing, they pull through the engine bay doors for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Eddie sits across from Buck and presses his knees against Buck’s. They share a tired smile, and Buck points at Eddie’s pocket with an expectant tilt of his chin. 

Eddie blinks for a second, then understanding dawns on him and he pulls his phone from his pocket. He passes it to Buck, and a little spark of warmth spreads from Buck’s chest as he unlocks the screen. Yup, that’s right, Eddie “I don’t trust anyone with anything” Diaz trusts Buck with his phone password. 

Buck flips through the photos Carla sent. In one Christopher is stuffing his face with a cupcake, in another he’s got he’s smiling with slitted eyes getting too damn close to the camera. The last one is Christopher holding up a drawing of two men in what looks like Picaso’s version of firefighter uniforms, and a little boy with crutches standing between them. The three of them are holding hands, and there’s fireworks going off in the background. 

Buck’s eyes sting, and he quickly turns off the screen before the sting turns into tears. Christopher is a goddamn gift, and anyone who thinks otherwise can fight him. 

He hands the phone back to Eddie, and they share a knowing look. Eddie’s knees squeeze Buck’s, and the delicious pressure conveys everything words doesn’t as they take a sharp turn and squeal to a stop. 

Eddie, Buck, and Cap hop out of the truck just as Hen and Chim rush past them, their emergency bus parked right behind the fire engine. There’s a small crowd under the neon sign of the club, and Hen pushes her way to the front, her fatigue forgotten as she crouches beside a young man on the ground. 

“He just stumbled out and collapsed,” a young woman in a short slinky dress says, her voice high-pitched with panic. “He looked dead and he wasn’t breathing. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You’re the one who called 9-1-1?” Buck glances at the phone clutched in her manicured hands. 

“Yeah.”

“You did everything you could,” he reassures her and squeezes her shoulder. “We’ll take over from here.” 

Hen checks the man’s airway, then moves back as Chim presses a mask over his mouth and nose. Buck knows the drill like he knows the back of his own eyelids. Two breathes, compression, check, repeat. This is the third PNB tonight, and they already had two cases of alcohol poisoning before ten pm. Buck appreciates a good party as much as the next guy, but this is getting a little ridiculous. 

He and Eddie are on crowd control as Cap, Chim, and Hen bring the young man around. Eventually, he sputters and rolls over and vomits all over the concrete sidewalk, and that breaks up the crowd of lookie-loos.

They help get the man onto a gurney and into the bus. Hen and Chim rush off toward the hospital, and Buck has one foot on the truck when movement in the corner of his eye gives him pause. He turns, and dread pool icy cold in his stomach. 

Halfway down the block, a group of rowdy drunkards shove a very, very pregnant lady out of the way. Buck watches, frozen in time, as she trips and falls, spilling the contents of the plastic bag hanging on her arm. 

Buck curses and runs toward her, shoulder checking the group of drunk men as he pushes through them. One guy makes a grab for him, but his gruff shout of “hey asshole” turns sharp and breathy as he yelps in pain. Buck glances over his shoulder and smirks with satisfaction; Cap’s got the asshole’s wrist in a vise grip as the rest of the group swerves out of the way. Serves him right. 

The satisfaction is short lived as he skids to a stop on his knees beside the pregnant lady, who’s gasping in pain as she clutches at her extremely round stomach. 

“Ma’am, ma’am—”

“Do I look like a goddamn ma’am to you?” the woman spits through gritted teeth. 

Buck scoffs, but doesn’t fight her on it. “My name is Evan Buckley. I’m with the LAPD. Can you get up?” 

She tries, then grimaces and falls back on her butt as her whole body curls in on itself. She shuts her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth as if she’s done this before. 

“I…” she says, her voice strained. “I think I’m going into labour.”

Buck’s swallows as breathing becomes difficult, and he looks up at Eddie and Cap, who are standing a few feet away. 

“We’ll get you to the hospital as soon as possible—”

“No,” she gasps, “no you don’t understand. This is my third. When I say the kid’s coming, she’s fucking comi—oh  _ fuck _ .” She squeezes Buck’s hand as a contraction wracks through her, and Buck tries to ignore the way his bones shift in her grip. It’s a long, agonizing God-knows-how-long before she lets go and says, “Should’ve known better than to wonder around this late at night.”

“What were you doing out this late anyway?” Buck asks as Cap and Eddie spread a blanket on the cold, concrete sidewalk. 

“Had a craving for fried chicken,” she responds sheepishly and shuffles onto the blanket just in time for another contraction to hit. 

Once over, and she lets go of Buck’s poor, cramped hand, she brushes a strand of hair from her sweaty brow and smiles at him. “I’m Lauren, by the way. Evan, was it?”

“You can call me Buck.”

“Buck, huh.” She purses her lips and tests the name a couple times. “I like it. Maybe I’ll name my kid after you, Buck.”

Buck looks horrified. “I thought you said it’s a girl?”

She grins and opens her mouth, but before she could respond, her face screws up and she lets out a string of curses as her hand wraps around Buck’s once more in a death grip. They don’t talk after that, with the contractions coming on fast and furious and if this goes on any longer he’s going to need a cast for his hand. Cap and Eddie talk her through it, but the lady knows what she’s doing. This is her third, after all. 

Another small crowd forms around them. Cap looks up from between her splayed legs and says, “Pus—”

“Fuck, she’s  _ coming _ ,” Lauren shouts.

Buck moves without thinking. Moves because every muscle in his body is trained to react. He reaches under her leg just as a soft head appears, and he catches the baby before the rest of her slides out. Lauren’s sharp cry turns into an exhausted gasp, then she collapses onto the ground. 

A thin, shrill cry erupts from the tiny little thing in Buck’s arms, and Buck wants to cry, too, with joy. He looks to Lauren, then freezes when he sees the pool of red beneath her. There’s so much blood. Too much blood. And Cap throws a bundle of blankets at Buck before shoving him and the baby out of the way. There’s shouting behind him. Hen and Chim come flying through with their duffles and life-saving equipment. 

Buck cleans the baby as best as he can, then wraps her up and sits on his ass as he watches, helpless. Lauren is awake, and she’s looking at her baby with so much love it brings more tears to Buck’s eyes. The world swims around the edges, and Buck clears his throat and snaps out of his stupor as he gingerly scooches over to Lauren. 

“She’s beautiful,” he croaks.

She reaches for her baby, and he hands her over, blood and mucus and all, and something in his chest bursts with so much warmth and hope and joy. Beside him, Cap pats his shoulder, mutters a “well done, son” before pushing to his feet. Buck swallows and tries to follow, but his legs don’t work, so he resigns to sitting on the cold concrete until Chim and Hen has Lauren and her baby up on a gurney. 

The crowd around them are chanting something, but Buck can’t make out the words as he watches Lauren and the baby get wheeled into the bus. She waves at him, and he waves back, dazed. 

A soft finger brushes Buck’s jaw, and he turns to the gentle touch to find Eddie’s honey brown eyes trained on him. His face is bathed in shifting colours, and there’s cheering all around them. Eddie’s jacket is covered in blood, his forehead damp with sweat, and there’s a small smear of dirt on the tip of his nose. He looks like a fucking mess, and Buck wouldn’t have him any other way. 

Eddie smiles that lopsided smile of his and chuckles. “What a way to bring in the new year, huh?”

Buck blinks. “What?”

“Did you miss the countdown?” 

“Incase you didn’t notice, I was a little preoccupied,” Buck huffs indignantly.

Eddie’s eyes soften, and his smile loses its playful mockery. “Yeah, you were busy falling in love.”

Buck’s instinct was to deny it, but the sincere look in Eddie’s eyes stops him. “I was, a little, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe, in the future when we’re more...you know, ready…” Eddie worries at his bottom lip as a faint blush colours the apples of his cheeks. “We can adopt a little girl. Chris has always wanted a little sister.”

Buck stares at Eddie, and the implications of his words, the hidden meaning between the lines, knocks the breath out of him. “Are you? Is that a—because if you’re fucking with me right now, Edmundo Diaz, I’m going to fucking kick your ass.” 

“Fuck, Ev, yes.” Eddie laughs and gets down on one knee. He pulls a little velvet box from his pocket and pops it open, revealing a simple silver band. “Evan Buckley, the source of all my migraines, the devil on my son’s shoulder, the man who fills my waking thoughts and plagues my dreams, the man who stole my heart and keeps it safe, who’s always got my back. You are the love of my life, the pillar that holds me up and gives me strength, will you make me the happiest man and do me the honour of becoming my husband?” 

The crowd around them quiets even as the fireworks continue to shower psychedelic lights over the streets of LA. Eddie’s earnest face is open, vulnerable, so full of sincerity and love. And all that is because of Buck. For Buck, and the tiny little “ _ yes _ ” tumbles from his lips so fast he can hardly catch his breath. Eddie’s shoulders sag and he lets out a relieved chuckle, then scrambles back onto his feet and slips the ring on Buck’s finger. 

They stand forehead to forehead with grime and muck and blood and who knows what else stuck on their uniforms, and seal the deal with a searing kiss. 


End file.
